


Bank Job

by Pollarize



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Bank Robbery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8581099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollarize/pseuds/Pollarize
Summary: they can't teach you acting, it's there in your soul,
  
  it's the same with a bank job, and each thing we stole,





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the song [Bank Job by Barenaked Ladies](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L8dMIzfp8HM). It's an A+ song and it's not necessary to listen before you read but I highly recommend because it's kind of a beautiful song.

Josh was lounged across Michael’s sofa. They’d gathered at his house since it seemed to be in the middle of all of them. Mark was on the other end, trying to avoid Josh’s feet. Tyler paced in the center of the floor, counting on his fingers. They all knew what he was doing. He was checking and double checking their plans.

 

“Hey, leader,” Josh said, laughing at the nickname. Tyler’s head snapped up and he looked ready to rip someone's hair out if not his own.

 

“What?” He snapped, his pacing finally stopped.

 

“Dude, you’re gonna wear a hole in Michael’s floor, come sit. We’ve practiced it all a million times, we’re fine,” he said and Tyler’s shoulders slumped. He planted himself on the floor next to Josh, head tipping back and resting against Josh’s thigh. 

 

It was dead silent in the apartment. They all stared at nothing, avoiding each other and the reality of what was going to happen. The only movement was Josh’s hand brushing over Tyler’s head. 

 

“What time are we going?” Michael asked as he stepped out of his room. He wore all black, matching the rest of them. Everyone’s tattoos were expertly hidden, covered by long sleeves and tight shirts, gloves to cover the wrists. They had red ski masks next to them, wanting to stand out but be unrecognizable. It had worked before. 

 

It was a couple months since they had last tried it. The public had thought that the “Red Intruders” were disbanded, bored of bank robberies. It was the opposite, actually. They had planned something bigger. They slipped back into their daily lives, practicing through the night and on days off. They had their routine down, they were nervous but ready. 

 

“Open the doors at two-forty-seven,” Tyler said, eyes closed. He seemed relaxed but Josh knew better. It was the calm before the storm. He was calm but in less than an hour, Josh knew he’d be barking orders, he’d have a shotgun in hand. Tyler would put people on their knees and threaten them, he’d let Josh and Mark grab the cash. He was always more in control of other people, it just made sense. This was no different than before, no different than the times when they walked oout with pockets and bags heavy. They were a good team and if all went well, they’d be sitting on the beach in some foreign company.

 

“You know, I think the very first night, I’m gonna get drunk,” Josh stated, a sideways grin on his face. They all turned to look at him except for Tyler. 

 

“Have you ever drank before?” Mark asked and Josh shook his head.

 

But Tyler knew. They had agreed on it the night before. Tyler had his cock buried inside Josh and they stopped, catching their breaths, dragging out the feeling for as long as possible.

 

“What are we gonna do first?” Tyler had asked, smiling down at Josh. They had talked about getting a home together, about getting a cat. They had talked about buying groceries in Spain or Thailand. 

 

“Maybe we go to Japan,” he said and Tyler rolled his hips.

 

“Answer me,” he said, bored of Josh’s mind wandering.

 

“I want to get drunk. A victory,” he had said and Tyler kissed him until they were both breathless.

 

“Together?”

 

“Of course.”

 

So Tyler knew, they had planned it all. 

 

They all four piled into their van. It was a minivan that Michael’s parents had given to him when Tyler first started his band.

 

“For travelling,” she had said. She never even asked for it back when the band failed.

 

“Michael, you good?” Tyler asked, slipping into his role. Michael nodded, checking the gas tank, checking to make sure the van would work.

 

“Yup. I know every way to get to Texas,” he said, trying to picture the maps he’d studied. 

 

“Why Texas?” Mark asked, frowning at their choice of rendezvous locations. Tyler shrugged.

 

“Ohio is our homebase. They will expect us to go north, not south. Especially not that south,” he said and it all made sense. They were quiet again, waiting for Tyler to go through everything again.

 

“Josh? Mark?” He asked and the two looked at each other. 

 

“Grabbing the money,” Mark finally said, the anticipation and nerves lining his voice, “Josh has the code.” 

 

The drive was silent and all too soon they were parked a block away from the bank. They stared at it, the glass doors and the people going in and out. They each had funds in the bank, using that as an easy way to get inside and look. Josh remembered going into the bank and smiling at the teller, he asked to open an account and dropped fifty bucks. They’d all done the same over the last couple of months, smiling and polite, asking to make an account along with the thousands of others who entered and exited every day. They knew the layout like the back of their hand.

 

“What’re we doing, boss?” Michael asked, breaking the silence that started to suffocate everyone. Tyler swallowed before nodding. 

 

“It’s a go. We’ll be out by fifty-five, I need you to be parked there and waiting,” he said and Micheal nodded his head. He didn’t comment on the fact that he knew this all already. Tyler had reminded them too many times to count. 

 

They were thankful for Tyler’s help. He kept them together and kept them from breaking down whenever a cop drove by them in their daily lives. Josh had called Tyler during multiple breakdowns. He hid in a bathroom and Tyler asked what happened. 

 

“I was driving to the store and a cop was driving the other way. Shit, Ty, I panicked,” he had said. Tyler squeezed Josh’s hand now just like he had when he picked Josh up each time he broke down in an alleyway or in a bathroom. 

 

The clock read two-forty-seven and Tyler opened the van door. They each had a bag, shotguns hidden inside and skimask in their back pockets. The bank door opened as it should and their masks were pulled on. Tyler screamed and the people screamed and Mark locked the door as best he could. 

 

When they all paused for a second to breathe, they realized the problem. 

 

A group of nuns stood by a teller, eyes wide as they stared at the three men in masks, shotguns raised in the air. Josh pushed the fact to the back of his mind and continued the plan. They were robbing the bank, stealing money and leaving. Murder was never involved in that plan. Mark followed his lead and they were starting to get back on track but Tyler was lost at the door.

 

“Tyler, get busy,” Josh yelled, making his way over a counter and into the back. Mark had the tellers on their knees and gave Josh the clear to work. 

 

“Josh, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” Tyler yelled back, eyes wide as he pressed his back to the front door.

 

Josh’s hands fumbled on the lock as he heard the nuns praying together, a whispered chance asking for forgiveness and salvation, the strength to great through today no matter what the outcome was for them. Josh recognized some of the prayers, remembered when he was young and he had sat in church, staring up at the pastor and believing the words that were spoken. He looked over to Tyler who was staring back, eyes pleading. He could tell even from here. 

 

Sirens were in the distance and one of the men that had been caught in the bank stood up and threatened Tyler. They had hit their two minute mark and Josh still hadn’t opened the vault. 

  
“Get out, get out,” he yelled and him and Mark were jumping over the counter. They grabbed Tyler on the way, sprinting out the door and across the street. They still wore their masks, shotguns left on the floor of the bank with their empty bags. Michael was still parked a block away and was surprised when they threw the door open. 

 

“Drive, fucking drive,” Tyler said and Michael fumbled with the keys for a moment. He at least knew every way to the freeway and down to Texas. Then again, so did the blue and red lights that had started following them a few miles back.

 

It was never for a lack of trying on Michael’s part. He’d done everything in his power to get around the other cars and to get far enough away that they could take an off ramp and hide. Like the nuns, it was just the worst case of luck they’d ever had. 

 

Traffic was at a standstill and Michael slammed on the breaks, having nowhere else to go. They were parked behind the rest of the traffic, all of their eyes wide as they stared at the lights flashing in the rearview mirror.

 

Josh turned around and watched as cops snuck up in bulletproof vests and guns already drawn. He pulled his mask off and watched, tears in his eyes and mouth slack.    
  


“They think we’re armed,” he said, realizing they usually would have been. 

 

“Armed robbery,” Mark echoed, the words sinking in around them. 

 

The cops were screaming at them to come out with their hands on the backs of their heads. Josh was the first one out, being shoved face first into the pavement. He felt rocks cutting his cheek and the tears finally spill over. He’d left his parents home with the intentions of starting a band and now look at where he had gotten. 

 

Best case scenario, his parents disowned him. 

 

They packed Mark and Michael into one car, Josh and Tyler going into the other. Josh squirmed against the hard plastic, shoulders aching and wrists aching. He didn’t like the cuffs, didn’t like even more how Tyler leaned forward and spilled like it was vomit. 

 

“I would have done it, would have gotten away with it but there were nuns, how could I live with myself?” He said and the cop was almost smiling, looking in the rearview mirror at Tyler like he was the dumbest person alive. 

 

“Shut up,” Josh said, for both of their sakes. He knew that they would get a lawyer, that they’d find the best outcome for their crimes. Tyler just wouldn’t listen.

 

“Josh, I have to explain myself,” he said and Josh rolled his eyes. 

 

“I said, shut up,” he repeated. They both turned as best they could to glare at each other. 

 

“What’s your problem?” Tyler asked and it took Josh by surprise. If anything, Josh’s problem should have been Tyler. He was the one who froze, who lost control and let things slip out from their grasp.

 

“My problem? Quit it with the attitude. You should have gone with the fucking plan. We were counting on you and you just left us,” he said, wishing he could have screamed and cussed until he left Tyler in tears. He wished Tyler felt the way he felt.

 

“But-” Tyler said, trying to defend himself but Josh held a finger up.

 

“No, you listen here. I get it, I fucking get it but you still are the reason we’re here. You were in charge, you should have been composed. Instead, you got the rest of us arrested, too. I hope you live the rest of your life knowing that this is on you, this is your fault,” he said, not caring when Tyler started crying and not caring about apologizing. He had much worse to say, he felt that that had been tame. 

 

“Josh, what about our beachside condo?” He asked, voice wavering. Josh turned so he was facing forward, eyes closing. 

 

“Well, Ty, I think we’re gonna get lovely orange outfits. I’d love to be on some beach by tomorrow but unfortunately, our faces are gonna be on the news for weeks,” he said. 

 

Josh heard Tyler’s clothes against the plastic seat, heard him sitting and facing forward, heard the sobs. The bitterness was still hot in his throat and he had stopped trying to keep it in.

 

“You looked like a Goddamn amateur. I hope you know that I’m naming you as the leader. I hope you do your time.”

 

When they got out of the backs of cop cars there was news everywhere. 

 

Josh remembered how badly he wanted his band to take off, how he’d wondered if he’d make it on TV. He had wanted to be big enough that he could take part in huge shows and award shows, perform in front of billions of people through a screen. 

 

“Look, mom, we made it.”


End file.
